


Discrepancies

by olliolli_oxenfree



Series: dapolyweek [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Circle of Magi, Gen, Kinloch Hold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:51:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olliolli_oxenfree/pseuds/olliolli_oxenfree
Summary: Things at Kinloch Hold are different from the Gallows.Now part two of DA Poly Week.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read on Tumblr [here!](http://fleetingshadowdm.tumblr.com/post/144638624076)

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

Surana is standing over him. Large eyes observe him, waiting for a proper response. “That. As soon as lessons and meals are over, you stop. You just stand there looking lost."

“The Templars haven’t told me what to do yet.”

Her ears flick back when her eyes widen. The elves of the Circle are careful to keep their ears still, so their emotions will be hidden from the Templars. Whatever he just said must be very alarming.

“Is that what they do in the Gallows?” Her voice is small, breathless with disbelief. He nods.

Surana watches him a moment longer, then snatches his hand. They run the loop of the outer corridor until Surana spots a Templar. He slows, but Surana grips his hand tighter and brings them in front of the knight.

“We’re going to the library.”

The announcement is treated as though she had done no more than tell the time. A bemused, “Alright, then,” and Surana readjusts her grip to lead him off.

They walk this time, but when she leads him past the center stairwell he panics. “You said we were going to the library!”

“I changed my mind.”

Surana takes them to another set of stairs further around the loop. They go down, and he finds himself in the apprentices quarters.

“There you are, Caedan!” Jowan calls from his mattress. “Thought you got lost again!” Another apprentice is sitting on the mattress where he usually sits. He knows better than to think of anything in the Circle as actually being _his_ , but his gaze lingers nonetheless. Jowan notices, and slides over to make room. Surana remains standing.

“Nice to meet you,” the stranger extends a hand. Caedan can sense the stamp of nobility on him in the way he enunciates. It’s as hard a habit to shake as it is to stop looking for a window. “My name is—”

Jowan cuts him off with a snicker. “His name is _Flora_.”

The apprentice reddens. “My _name_ is Florian— Please, call me Finn. Please.”

Caedan can’t help it. He laughs, too. “Your name is _Florian_ —”

“His name is Finn.” Surana interrupts. Finn casts her a grateful look.

Finn is from a small family in a place called the West Hills. They trade stories of what they remember. Finn is fascinated by Kirkwall, just as much as he is mystified by Ferelden. He doesn’t realize the panic in his gut is settled until a Templar comes to escort them to their afternoon lessons. Then he remembers, and drags his steps as he waits for the Templar to separate him and Surana from the others.

It doesn’t happen.

Not that day, or even the next. A full week has passed before he finds it in him to confront Surana.

“Why didn’t we go to the library?”

“When?”

“When you told the Templar. We went to the dorms instead.”

“Oh. Then. Because we could.”

He doesn’t quite understand at first. Then, he remembers. Before his magic manifested itself, when he lived on the estate with his parents. He didn’t need permission for everything. Aside from lessons and meals, he was free to do as he pleased. He _had_ done as he pleased. Snuck into Lowtown with other children. Played outside until their mothers came to gather them in from the night. Tossed Caprices into the fountains because it was done in Orlais.

They don’t meet often, but when they do he calls Finn Flora. Because he can.

* * *

He drags his fingers along the stone curve of the outer wall. The stone is not so thick. If he tried, _really_ tried, he would likely be able to blast through with a single spell. He still has an explosive Dworkin made. No wall of human construct could stand up to one of those.

Behind him, his companions are speaking. Words lost to him under the ones he mutters aloud. Soft and murmured so they don’t carry to the Templars. His hair is long. He has practiced blood magic and none have dared call him maleficar. The Queen herself has given him right of passage in Ferelden where the Warden treaties fail. He is going to leave the tower. He will find Morrigan. _He is the Grey Warden Commander of Vigil’s Keep, and no Templar shall_ —

“Your name is…?”

The mage sighs. “Florian Phineas—”

Caedan brings a fist down on his palm. “Flora!”

Finn groans. “Call me Finn. _Please._ "


End file.
